


Home Isn’t A Place

by zacekova



Series: That Thulaz Fantasy AU [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Historical Fantasy, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-07-05 06:43:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15858327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zacekova/pseuds/zacekova
Summary: Daibazaal and Marmora are at war, a battle for land and resources that has stood at a stalemate for years with no end in sight. But then, the Galra Emperor comes forward with a request to negotiate a treaty. He wishes for their nations to be at peace and proposes a marriage of their two peoples to help encourage the bonds of friendship.Commander Thace, a trusted and valuable military leader of the Empire, and the cousin of Marmora’s Premier, General Ulaz, will suit just fine.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been in the works since November - lots of plotting and research and excessive outlining has been put into it; I have literally never done this much work on a fic before. It pretty much sprung from my disappointment that there are no long fics for this pairing, not where their relationship is the main focus of the story. The whole reason I got into writing fanfiction was because of the whole “if it doesn’t exist, write it yourself” concept, so I put my brain to work and now, ten months later, this is the result. 
> 
> Updates will be every-other week on Saturdays (USA time), and there’s enough chapters ready to go to last through the end of the year so there shouldn’t be any delays - hopefully never, but for a good long while for sure. Also, there will be no strict adherence to any kind of word count, chapter-to-chapter because that’s just not how this thing wanted to go. Also also, the chapter count is just an estimate at this point - it, along with the tags, will update as we go.
> 
> Also, if you know the lovely [Hymn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hymn), thank her for being a wonderful person in general and a delight of a beta. She helps me make this thing into something worth reading.

“Get down!” Ulaz yanked on the back of the soldier’s collar and dragged him to the ground. There was a blast of shrapnel and heat as he curled over the man’s head and closed his eyes. The energy sent a shiver down the back of his neck, standing the fine hairs on end and carrying the heavy, pungent stench of concentrated quintessence. The spell’s energy started to die, the sour smell coagulating in the rivers of mud and icy slush squelching beneath his boots and leaving behind the tang of damp earth and sweat. Ulaz straightened, gaze flitting over the soldier with concern. “Are you injured?”  
  
The soldier shook his head and offered a weary smile. “I’m unharmed. Thank you.”  
  
Ulaz nodded and turned back to the field. Through the settling dust, he could see a couple of druids lurking among the boulders and jagged tree stumps that littered the plain. The foot soldiers seemed to be staying in their trenches, hiding behind earthen barriers and letting the magic users do all the work. They’d done the same for weeks, now, like they’d lost all previous ambition for victory.

Perhaps there was still a bit of chaos from the change in leadership; perhaps the new Emperor was simply biding his time.

The former Emperor’s abdication had caught everyone by surprise. He’d spent the entirety of his reign carrying on the Galran tradition of war and conquest with ruthless enthusiasm, his massive army descending like a plague of locusts on every land they bordered without mercy, only to relinquish the throne with no fanfare less than a month ago. Whatever his reasons, the rumors and speculation had not reached Marmora yet and in the quiet that followed the official news even the Empire had begun to reveal a weariness over all the fighting.

A bolt of violet lightning shattered the quiet and Ulaz jolted, ducking down into the trench and covering his head. Bits of earth rained down around him, pinging against his armor, followed by a wave of silence ringing over the desolate field. Ulaz rose cautiously, peering over the lip of the trench and blinking in surprise. The druids were creeping across the charred and barren battlefield, climbing back into their holes without a backward glance.

The sun had hardly passed its peak and they were already done for the day?  
  
The strangeness of it put his senses on alert - no matter how weary the Empire appeared, they’d never failed to continue the farce of _attempting_ until at least sunset. Ulaz’s gaze narrowed and he stood vigilant at the frontlines for another hour, watching and waiting for another attack.

It stayed quiet. No one appeared over the edge of the trenches and no magic arced across the field and, eventually, Ulaz heaved a sigh and straightened, sheathing his blade over his back. If the fighting picked up again someone would inform him.  
  
He turned away from the battlefield and made his way through the trenches, hunting for any injured soldiers who may not have made their way to the infirmary yet. There were a half-a-dozen men with minor scrapes and burns that he stopped to treat, raiding the pack on his belt for salves and bandages and leaving them with instructions to stop by the medical tent in the morning for further healing if they needed it.  
  
Half-way back to the tents he spotted a pair of men hobbling across the uneven ground, one of them with his arm slung over the other’s shoulder and an obvious limp slowing them down. Ulaz jogged over and slipped under his other arm, scanning for wounds. “What happened?”  
  
The injured man’s companion - Retav, Ulaz thought - shook his head, lips tugging in a wry smile. “He leaped down into the trench like a moron and twisted his ankle. I told him to stop being so theatrical about it.”  
  
The other grunted, brow pinched in discomfort and concentrating on moving his feet. “Yeah, yeah.”  
  
Ulaz bit back a smile and silently helped him to the infirmary. He lowered the injured man onto a cot and sent his hovering companion off with a clap on the shoulder. “He’ll be stuck here for a day, at least, until his ankle is healed enough to walk with a crutch. Head back to your duties, we’ll take care of him from here.”  
  
As soon as Retav had gone, Ulaz turned back to the patient and set about tending to the aching, inflamed joint with gentle, steady hands.  
  
“Thanks, Doc,” the man said as Ulaz worked, lying back with a grunt.  
  
Ulaz shook his head. “I’m not a doctor, but you are welcome.”

“No?” the soldier asked, eyebrow quirked in surprise. “Well, you’re in here so much I just figured you were in charge of the infirmary because of your training. Sir.”

Ulaz winced internally but kept his expression neutral. “My training is insufficient for such a title but, regardless, I consider it my duty to help out when I have the time.” He finished tying off the bandage - patting the soldier on his thigh in farewell - and straightened, taking a look around the infirmary. There were enough occupied beds that he let himself be drawn into making the rounds - checking vitals, dressing wounds, massaging aching joints and muscles, and hunting down extra blankets.

Most of the patients were bedridden from the cold - mild illness and frostbite - but there were few people like the man he’d brought in earlier with minor injuries from fighting or training, as well as a couple from boredom-induced antics. As much as the war had been draining, it was also incredibly monotonous and there were thousands of men crammed together with little to do between battles. It was inevitable that some of them would end up doing something stupid as a means of cheap entertainment.

It was easy to get swept up in the work, to let everything else drift away as he focused on taking care of people. Ulaz’s entire world narrowed down to the infirmary - there was always another patient, always another need - and everything outside of the medical tent was like misty dreams, forgotten the moment you open your eyes.  
  
He was bent over someone’s arm checking a poultice when a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. He glanced up to see Antok gazing down at him, eyes swimming with gentle reprimand, and Ulaz looked around the room. The shadows in the corners had darkened, seeping across the floor and into the air, and the tent was dim with scattered lamplight. Through the open entrance the sky had turned black, not even a trace of light left outside aside from the torches and campfires, and, as if to emphasize how much time had passed, Ulaz’s stomach growled.

He groaned, running a hand down his face as the heaviness of his tired limbs set in; he’d lost track of time again. “Just... let me finish this row of patients?” he asked.    
  
Antok frowned, the right side of his mouth matching the permanent downturn of the left. “Kolivan hasn’t seen you since the fighting started this morning,” he said. _He’s worried about you,_ he didn’t add, but Ulaz heard it anyway.  
  
He bit back a sigh, nodding; he should have known better than to get distracted without checking in first, both as a commander and as a friend. He waved Antok off with a promise to be quick and turned to clean up the scattered contents of his medical kit, taking it back to the appropriate shelf and scribbling a list of notes on the patients he’d treated for the nurses to look over.  
  
Antok was waiting for him just outside the tent, arms crossed and hood raised against the cold, the thick length of his braid hanging over his chest. He tossed Ulaz a stale loaf and walked off toward the command sector without a second glance.  
  
Ulaz fumbled with the bread and rushed to catch up with Antok’s steady, lumbering strides, chewing and swallowing a couple of bites before speaking.  “It was harder to convince him to leave than you knew I would be, wasn’t it?”  
  
Antok grunted and kept his gaze stubbornly forward, refusing to either confirm or deny.  
  
Ulaz’s lips quirked in a smile. Kolivan’s own stubborn refusal to openly show concern for anyone had been a source of constant frustration to Antok for decades. The more he worried the harder his already stony countenance became, and yet he remained incapable of voicing his fears. Ulaz had learned a long time ago to quit trying to get him to change but Antok kept hoping.

They walked the rest of the way in silence as Ulaz ate his mediocre supper and Antok pretended he wasn’t pouting. Most of the men had started to retire for the night, dousing torches and turning the fires over to protect the glowing embers. Dull murmurs emanated from inside the tents as the soldiers readied for sleep, layering the ground beneath their bedrolls with heated rocks and lying back-to-back for warmth. The sky was clear, shimmering with stars, and Ulaz inhaled deeply, lungs burning from the crisp, cold air, and letting the quiet settle his lingering unease over the druid’s retreat earlier in the day.  
  
All the officers’ tents were in the center of the camp, a giant network like a spoked wheel with Kolivan’s “office” as the central hub. A web of covered passages branched off from it in a half-moon to the other command tents and the officers’ quarters. The flaps were closed and the lights off in all but one of them, a soft glow coming through the walls of Kolivan’s complex. Antok lifted the entrance flap and they both ducked inside, letting the heavy canvas fall back into place behind them.

As Ulaz had expected, Kolivan was hunched over his desk with red eyes and tangled hair, surrounded by stacks of paper. He lifted his head when they came close, some of the tension in his shoulders draining away when he caught sight of Ulaz. “There you are,” he said, standing and making his way around the desk. He grabbed Ulaz’s shoulder with a firm grip, the wrinkling around his eyes speaking of worry despite his stern tone. “You didn’t come find me after the battle.”  
  
Ulaz clasped Kolivan’s wrist and nodded. “I had to carry an injured soldier to the infirmary. I should have sent a message but I got distracted.”  
  
Antok snorted. “Not surprising.”  
  
Kolivan’s lips twitched but his gaze and his frown stayed on Ulaz. “I understand, but please try not to forget again.”  
  
Ulaz nodded, guilt settling heavily in his gut. It wasn’t the first time it’d happened and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. It was hard to remember that there were people worried about him when he was surrounded by the sick and injured. “You know I always do.”  
  
Kolivan pulled him into a hug, pressing his cheek against Ulaz’s temple and sighing. “I know.”  
  
Ulaz wrapped his arms around Kolivan’s back, letting the warmth ease some of the ache in his bones. “You should go to sleep,” he said, a low murmur that even Antok wouldn’t be able to hear. “Stop making your husband hunt me down for help.”  
  
Kolivan cuffed him on the back of the head. “You’re one to talk.”

Ulaz grinned and ducked away, heading toward the entrance to his tent and snagging a spare lamp on his way out. “It’s rather late, I believe, and we all need to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”  
  
Kolivan shook his head, obviously fighting back a smile, but nodded in agreement. “Yes. I’m a bit uneasy about how abruptly the fighting ended this morning. We should be rested and prepared for whatever may come tomorrow.”

Antok wrapped his arm around Kolivan’s waist, directing him toward their own tent and waving to Ulaz. “Agreed. Which means no more paperwork for you.”

Kolivan grumbled something inaudible but complied, dousing the remaining lamps around his desk. “Goodnight, Ulaz.”  
  
“Goodnight,” Ulaz said, watching the two of them disappear through the entrance to their bedroom before disappearing behind the flap to his own chambers. The channel between the tents was cold, but his aid must have left a fire going in the stove before he went to sleep because the bedroom was pleasantly warm when he slipped inside, even after he started shedding his armor. Ulaz snagged a rag and gave the inky, opaque metal a quick polish before changing into his nightclothes and dousing the lamp.

He slid into bed, the pebble of apprehension sitting in his belly shrinking as exhaustion took over and he closed his eyes against the glow of the fire. There was nothing more he could do about it tonight; he’d let tomorrow worry about itself for awhile.

 

* * *

  
Thace skimmed through the report in his hand, trying to absorb as much of it as he could. When he’d finished, he looked up and nodded, passing the paper back to his assistant. “Bring this to Commander Sendak and make a copy for the captain of the druids, whoever that is now. And when you find out, send word back to me; I needed to know yesterday.”  
  
Gradek nodded. “I believe they spent the last few evenings deliberating the decision, Commander.”  
  
Thace grunted, scanning over the next report in the sheaf. “I know. It seems they’re incapable of finishing anything in a timely manner without Lady Honerva’s supervision.” He shuffled through a few papers and glanced around the field. “Where are Commanders Janka and Raht?”  
  
Gradek shifted his feet, expression pinched. “Commander Janka has been busy with orders from the Emperor; inventory, I believe. Commander Raht died this morning.”  
  
Thace looked up, raising a brow in surprise. “There was barely any fighting today,” he said, baffled.  
  
Gradek’s mouth twisted in a grimace and he shook his head. “Forgive me, Commander, I don’t know anything else about it. I was told the generals know more and will be giving the details to the Emperor in their evening reports.”  
  
Which meant he would be briefed come morning, but all Raht’s work would pile up until it could be reassigned.

Thace nodded, biting back a sigh, and turned back to the reports, breezing through the last of them before returning the whole sheaf to Gradek. “Put the two on top on my desk for my signature later. The rest need to go to Janka.”  
  
Gradek nodded, slipping the papers into his waterproof case. “Yes sir. Also, the Emperor wants to speak to you as soon as you have the time.” There was no urgency to his tone but the glance he shot Thace’s way had a spark of curiosity. That Thace had known the Emperor for a long time - was even quite friendly with him - was relatively common knowledge, but Gradek had been respectful enough to never ask why despite how curious he’d always, rather obviously, been about it.

“Do you know what he’s summoning me for?” Thace asked. It was unlikely he was in trouble for anything, but aside from Raht’s death nothing of note had happened in days.  
  
Gradek shook his head, straightening. “No sir, I was only told to pass along the message from General Axca’s aide.”  
  
“Understood,” Thace said. “You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.”  
  
Gradek gave a quick salute and strode off, files held tightly under his arm.  
  
Thace watched him disappear into the crowd of soldiers milling around the back of the front lines, rambunctious and noisy from their extra hours of free time.

The command to ceasefire for the day had trickled down around noon, raising more than a few brows in surprise, but no one had felt a need to complain; the officers were tired, too. Apparently the order hadn’t come soon enough, though, not for Raht. He hadn’t exactly been a great Commander, but his loss still meant extra work for the rest of them, at least until the Emperor decided on his replacement. “As if there isn’t enough to do already,” Thace muttered, scraping a hand down his face.  
  
He took a quick glance around, double checking that there were no messengers coming his way or immediate concerns to deal with, and turned to head toward the back of the camp. It was almost a quarter-mile just to the first row of tents and another half to the far side of the plain, a decent walk on a normal day and tedious when you’d already crossed it multiple times. The one advantage to it was they could afford to spread out, the tents in neat, ordered lines but far enough apart to not be knocking elbows all day.  
  
The command pavilion looked nearly deserted, guarded only by one of the Emperor’s generals. Her grin was all teeth when Thace approached and she followed him inside the tent’s low entrance.  
  
The Emperor was leaning back against his desk, arms crossed and talking with the other generals. His face was impassive, calm, but tension lingered in his shoulders; he’d only been in command a few weeks but the weight of it was already beginning to show.  
  
Thace thumped his fist over his chest in salute. “Emperor Lotor, you summoned me.”  
  
Lotor looked over and waved for him to stand at ease. “Yes, thank you for your promptness, Commander. I wanted to get your opinion on a few things.”  
  
Thace nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.” It had been a few years, but it wasn’t an odd request; Lotor had always seemed to value his perspective and had never been ashamed to ask for it.  
  
“How was the battle today?” Lotor asked.  
  
Thace shifted into a more comfortable stance, arms crossed over his chest and running through the mental list he’d been compiling for his daily report. “No ground was gained but none was lost, either.” No different than any other day for the last five years. “We lost about half-a-dozen of our own men and estimate perhaps a third of that number of Marmorans killed, but one of our own losses was Commander Raht.”

He paused, waiting for the Emperor’s unsurprised nod of understanding before continuing. “The Druids seem to be functioning adequately in battle despite lacking a proper leader, still, and the supply chain is running smoothly but slowly. Our back-stock is emptying rapidly; even with a full rotation of the men out hunting and reduced rations we’re going to be using up all the supplies from each delivery before the next one arrives in the near future.”

“How long?”

Thace shrugged. “A month?”

Lotor’s brow pinched. “How are the soldiers dealing with the extra shifts?”  
  
Thace bit back the sigh rising in his chest but couldn’t stop his shoulders from sinking. “It... could be better. Many of them are weary of the stalemate. For some of them that means rising bloodlust with no appropriate outlet, but I’m more concerned about general morale. They’re not getting enough food and rest.“  
  
Lotor nodded. “I thought as much.” He bowed his head, breath leaving in a gusty sigh. “We cannot continue like this. As vast as the Empire is, it cannot withstand the strain from such a prolonged war. And we cannot afford to waste our time pounding against what amounts to an impenetrable fortress with our bare fists.”  
  
“Why are we fighting Marmora anyway?” Ezor asked, kicking her heels against the crate she was perched on. “It seems like a pretty insignificant country compared to most of the Empire’s other neighbors.”  
  
“Luxite,” Axca said, arms folded across her chest. “It’s only ever been found in Marmora territory.”  
  
“Exactly,” Lotor nodded. “It’s a rare metal, extremely durable and light. My mother and her scientists were desperate to get their hands on it but Marmora was stingy in their trade proposals and unwilling to compromise. At least, that is the tale according to my father, but I’m inclined to believe there’s a bit more to the story. Regardless, we have been fighting for years and made no progress. I would rather we pull back and take whatever deal they may still be willing to offer and let that be the end of it. End this useless war.”  
  
“So, what’s the plan?” Zethrid asked.  
  
Lotor’s gaze turned toward Thace - measuring, considering; heavy in a way that made Thace’s gut twist. “We offer a deal they would be foolish to reject,” he said, voice ringing with determination.  
  
Well. This should be interesting.


	2. Chapter 1 - A Surprising Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to any of you who have come back for more, and hello, welcome to any newcomers. Thanks for giving this thing a chance considering this story’s love of rairpairs. I appreciate you all.

The sun had just cleared the horizon, dousing the valley in brilliant white light, when Ulaz made his way back from his morning wash down at the river. There was a soldier in the Empire’s uniform seated on a rug outside the command tent, a mug of water by his knee and a plate of beans and softened jerky on his lap. Ulaz nodded at him in greeting and slipped inside the tent, blinking to adjust to the dimmer light.

Kolivan was leaning against his desk, arms folded, while Antok stood nearby reading a missive with an intense look on his face. Both of them were tense, shoulders high and brows furrowed.

“What’s going on?” Ulaz asked.

“We received a message from the Emperor a few minutes ago,” Kolivan answered. “They want to meet on the border this evening to discuss a truce.”Ulaz frowned. “Why would the Empire want to form a truce?”

Kolivan shifted a bit against the desk and curled his arms a little tighter. “I’m not sure, but if I had to hazard a guess I would say that by now the endless wars they’ve been engaging in for the last few decades are finally taking their toll. Their numbers and supplies are depleted even if it doesn’t look like it by comparison to our own army.”

“But surely they are still well enough off to defeat us?” Ulaz asked, looking over at Antok for support but Antok just shrugged. “Even depleted they still outnumber us five-to-one.”

“Yes,” Kolivan said, “but they still share borders with several hostile countries to the south. I assume they’ve left those lands relatively unprotected for the last few years while dealing with our small but formidable army and are beginning to feel the strain of being stretched so thin.” He gestured at the missive in Antok’s hand. “Coming to terms with us would bring an end to any official confrontation they’ve been engaged in with all their neighbors, not to mention end the draw on the royal coffers to fund all the transporting of troops and goods over the border and back. We have the advantage of being able to keep our entire military in one place and on our own land.”

“They’re struggling more than we are,” Antok summed up.

Kolivan nodded. “Marmora may be smaller but our weapons and soldiers are better and we haven’t dealt with any kind of economic strain in decades, whereas the Empire has been pushing itself to the limit for centuries. I’m not sure what offer the Emperor will put forward to assure me of his trustworthiness long-term, but I don’t doubt he’s sincere in the request for immediate peace.”

Ulaz nodded in understanding, folding his arms over his chest. “Who are you planning on taking with you?”

“The two of you,” Kolivan said, “and a small squad of guards. We have most of the day until we need to leave, so handle everything like usual. I’ll have horses saddled and waiting for us a couple of hours before sunset.”

Antok and Ulaz both voiced their understanding and they all turned away to attend to their duties. Even if the war was ending soon, there was still plenty to do until then.

~~~

A small pavilion tent had been set up at mid-point between the two armies, a dusky purple the same shade as the rank markings on the Empire’s armor. Two figures stood at the far corners - one rigid and regulation perfect, her long hair twisted back in a severe bun, and the other leaning lazily against the support beam and playing with the ends of the dozens of tiny braids swept over her shoulder.

The third figure sat behind a low table amongst a pile of cushions laid out on the hard ground. He rose as they approached, a long braid of white hair slipping over his shoulder with the movement, and extended a hand in greeting. “Welcome. I am grateful you agreed to meet with me, Premier Kolivan.”

Ulaz and Antok moved to stand at the remaining corners of the pavilion with attentive ears, while Kolivan clasped the Emperor’s forearm and then sank to the floor, legs crossed and back straight. “I must admit I was surprised, Your Majesty,” he said. “The Empire has rarely been known to negotiate.”

Lotor’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he sat down, folding one leg up towards his chest and resting an arm across his knee, strangely casual considering the setting. “I agree, but I hope to forge a different reputation from now on. The Empire has taken many lands under the guise of sharing our prosperity with the world, but it is a pitiful excuse for what ultimately amounts to greed and a lust for power. There are better ways to share our riches than conquest.”

Kolivan leaned forward to rest his arms against the table, hands folded together. “I guess it’s right to business, then. What is it that you wish to propose, exactly?”

“A bond of peace,” Lotor said. “A binding of our two lands to become neighbors and friends to our mutual benefit, and to eliminate the need for hostility.”

“Why?”

“I am tired of war. And so are my people. The Empire’s legacy within our lands is of fatherless homes and homeless families. We have sent our men to die for centuries and made the young and the weak bear all other burdens.” He sighed, running a palm over his eyes before straightening and bracing his forearm on the table. “Our fight with you is ancient and petty; I see no reason to continue fighting my Father’s childish battle.”

Kolivan watched him thoughtfully for a moment before asking, “How will your people respond to such a treaty?”

Lotor smiled, reaching over to the side of the table where a tray of glasses and a pitcher sat waiting to be used. He poured two steaming cups that smelled of warm spices and honey and passed one to Kolivan before taking a sip from his own. “Most of the Galra people are frustrated more by the drain on the economy - and with my father for refusing to let go of his pride - than with a country that seeks only to defend itself. Many still remember their own fight for freedom from the Empire; they bear little resentment for your people, specifically.”

Kolivan sipped at his tea. “And what is it _you_ wish to gain from this proposed alliance, besides the end of a war?” he asked. “Surely that cannot be all you want.”

Lotor traced a fingertip around the rim of his cup and remained silent for a long minute, seemingly pondering how to phrase his response. “Luxite,” he said eventually, receiving an unsurprised nod of acknowledgment from Kolivan before continuing, “and military training from some of your best soldiers. Despite your significantly smaller army you have been a formidable opponent.”

Antok grinned from his place leaning against the pavilion’s support beam, flipping a throwing knife around on his fingers. “Damn right.”

Kolivan threw him a quelling look, but Lotor grinned and tipped his head in deference before turning back to the discussion. “I do not intend to seek war any longer, Premier - the Empire is large enough - but we do have some rather temperamental enemies alongside our border and I am already weary of signing condolence letters to grieving families. Your military’s skill and knowledge would offer us an advantage over our opponents that I cannot even begin to calculate the benefits of.”

It wasn’t a surprising request. Marmora had been approached by a handful of countries and potential allies before, seeking training and education on all things battle related. The difference in this case was that none of them had nearly the power, size, and resources at hand as the Empire and, therefore, were of little threat. It was a simple, easily-fulfilled request, but one with dire consequences if the Empire went back to their nation-conquering ways.

Kolivan’s brow furrowed as he mulled it over. “And what can you offer us in return?”

“Trade,” Lotor said. “Open trade with any and all merchants for any legal product within the Empire’s territory.”

“That’s rather generous,” Kolivan remarked, pausing as he moved to take a drink. “But for what purpose? Marmora is entirely self-sufficient and has been almost since its founding.”

Lotor nodded. “I understand - your land is fertile enough to feed your people, you have adequate textile and fuel production as well as a thriving weapons manufacturing system. But considering your small size, your relatively homogeneous geography, and the rough environment there’s little variety to your diet and little time for creativity and the arts. The extensive and exotic products the Empire can provide would, I think, do well among a people who have experienced little of the rest of the world.”

Ulaz chuckled, drawing both of their gazes. The Emperor was right about that. The average Marmoran citizen would probably love to taste any produce and meat from outside their secluded plain, as well as peruse wares from all over the world. The reason Marmora had such a successful military was because of its prolific access to such a light and sturdy metal and the hard lifestyle enforced by the harsh environment. The need for fuel and food and to drive off any infringing neighbors trying to take their land and the luxite mines with it had forced them to fight and to fight well. Not to mention that spending all their spare time drilling and training helped keep them warm, at least.

Kolivan huffed at the look on Ulaz’s face and turned away. “It’s a fair assessment and one I myself have thought on occasion. Obviously, we would need to discuss this in greater detail, but I am in agreement with the general proposal.” Lotor nodded and Kolivan continued, gaze boring into the Emperor. “I’d like you to say what this meeting is really about, though.”

Lotor’s brow furrowed, lips quirking in a confused smile. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“I did not become Premier without being able to read people, Emperor,” Kolivan said. “I believe you are sincere in your hopes for peace, but negotiations would normally involve all of a country’s leadership from the start, yet you requested to meet with me, personally, before anyone else. There’s something else you want that you hoped to get my support on before presenting it to the Marmoran Parliament.”

The look of polite confusion remained for a second before Lotor chuckled, shifting to brace his elbow on the table, chin in hand. “You are quite the observant one, aren’t you?” he muttered, gaze roving over Kolivan’s stony expression before forging on. “Yes, you’re right, I have one last request to make. I wish to formalize the treaty through a bond of matrimony, a union of our peoples that cannot be broken.”

Silence fell. Lotor’s companions seemed unsurprised, but Ulaz’s eyes widened with shock and he could see Antok openly gaping at the edge of his vision.

Arranged marriages weren’t exactly unheard of but they’d largely been done away with throughout most of the world in the last century. Not to mention that until Emperor Zarkon’s espousal the Empire had never used marriage as a means of formalizing alliances and subjugations. And even that relationship had not come about until many years of friendship had passed.

“I’m married,” Kolivan said eventually, deadpan and breaking the silent tension.

Everyone stared at him for a beat and then Lotor threw his head back and laughed, loud and boisterous. “Yes, Premier, I’m aware of that,” he grinned, folding his arms on top of the table. “I am married as well. The offer was not meant for you or I, specifically, but for any individual we deem appropriate. I, myself, have selected one of our military’s best commanders, a well-decorated officer and a man of exceptional character.”

“I assume you would prefer we choose someone of similar rank, should we agree?”

Lotor shook his head. “No, the rank or blood does not matter to me. I would prefer the poorest of peasants so long as they were capable of handling such a responsibility with an appropriate level of maturity, wisdom, and grace. That being said, someone popular and respected among your people would undoubtedly lend to greater impact and influence.”

Kolivan’s brow furrowed in thought, his voice slow and careful as he chose his next words. “I need to discuss this with the Parliament.”

“Of course,” Lotor inclined his head. “I know this must seem a strange request but I have witnessed firsthand how such an act can bind two lands together in an unbreakable, propitious friendship, and encourage friendly relations among the people. Please, take as long as you need. In the meantime, I have ordered my troops to stand down and I will be sending the majority of them home over the next few days. Even if you decide against an alliance, I would like to call an end to this war.”

Kolivan rose, draining the last of the tea in his cup and setting it down before bowing, palm over his heart. Antok and Ulaz mimicked him and Lotor stood to return the gesture in the way of the Empire, a fist thumped firmly to the center of his chest. They straightened and turned to leave, making the long trek back to the guards and their horses in silence. There was a lot to think about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter is actually what I originally considered for the title of the entire story, but ultimately I decided I didn’t want the title to be based only on something that happened at the very beginning; I wanted something more thematic.


	3. Chapter 2 - Worrying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve written like 9 chapters in total for this fic so far and _this_ is one of my favorites out of them, if not _the_ favorite. Because Shotor.

It had barely been two varga since the Emperor had left, but Thace’s nerves were strung taut with anticipation and impatience, and he was starting to leave a furrow in the dirt from all his pacing back-and-forth across the command tent; he just wanted to _know_ already.

Something smacked against his temple and fell to the floor, halting him in his tracks. Thace glanced down at the cracked shell lying on the ground and then over at Zethrid.

She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, working her way through a bag of sunflower seeds while Narti’s cat sat curled up in her lap, tail swishing. “Will you chill out?” Zethrid said. “You’re making Kova twitchy and his claws are sharp.”

Thace worked his jaw for a moment, the tension in him wanting to spill out in a biting remark, but a quick glance at Narti’s raised brows halted the words in his throat. He sank down onto a nearby couch, resting his elbows on his knees and heaving a sigh.

Shiro, reclined next to him and skimming through reports, clapped a hand to his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry so much, it’ll be fine.”

Thace grunted, scratching at the back of his head in an effort to dispel the nervous jitters jumping around under his skin.

The sound of approaching footsteps sounded from outside and Lotor strode through the entrance a moment later, already reaching up to release the ties and catches on his armor. He let the chest plates fall to the floor with a dull clang and flopped down in the biggest, softest chair in the tent, tugging lazily at the buttons on his gambeson by his throat.

Shiro scooted over to the end of the couch nearest him and bent to release the ties on the cuisses and greaves from Lotor’s legs. “How did it go?” he asked.

Lotor sighed, slouching back in his seat and leaving the task of removing the rest of his armor to Shiro. He didn’t seem stressed, just tired, but that didn’t mean much; Thace had never been able to get a read on the man if he was trying to hide anything. “About as I expected and well enough, I suppose,” Lotor answered. “The Premier will be meeting with Parliament before they make any decisions, but I believe they will agree to an alliance, at the very least.”

“And what about the other thing?” Zethrid asked, scritching at Kova’s ear.

Lotor shook his head. “I don’t know. They seemed rather startled by my proposal.”

Shiro chuckled, setting the armor pieces off to the side and reaching for the pitcher of water sitting on a stand between their seats. “I don’t blame them,” he said, filling a glass and handing it to Lotor with a grin. “Your proposals can be pretty surprising.”

Lotor’s face pinked a bit and he swatted at Shiro’s thigh with his free hand, muttering into his glass as he raised it to his lips, “You be quiet.”

Shiro’s eyes sparkled as he danced out of the way, but he kept his mouth shut. He sat back down on the couch and seemed to notice that Thace was still staring at the floor, hands clasped together and knuckles white. “Hey, you okay?” he asked.

Thace sat stiffly in his seat, debating with himself whether to say what he was thinking. “It’s just-” he stopped, biting his lip, and turned to Lotor with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I agreed to this, but I must admit I’m rather apprehensive about the whole thing.”

Lotor quirked a brow, leaning over to set his glass down on the table with a click before settling back in his seat. “I would honestly be surprised if you were not, Commander. There are a great many concerns to consider.” He crossed an ankle over his knee and propped his head on his fist. “What is it that is bothering you the most?”

Thace took in a steadying breath, running a hand through his hair, and let it out in a gush. “I- The Empire declared war on Marmora for almost no reason and we have been killing their people for nearly two decades. I can’t imagine there are many people who would be happy about marrying a military commander, or any Galra for that matter.”

“Kolivan isn’t like that,” a voice spoke up, emanating from a gloomy shadow in a far corner of the tent. A dark figure emerged, removing a black mask from his face and folding his arms over his chest. “Kolivan wouldn’t force anyone into a political marriage and he wouldn’t ask anyone unless he thought they could handle it with maturity. He won’t agree to this at all if he doesn’t think there’s anyone like that.”

Thace’s brow furrowed. “How can you know that?”

“I’m from Marmora,” Keith said. “I was raised there.” Thace opened his mouth to speak, but Keith shook his head, forestalling his question. “It doesn’t matter, I know Kolivan wouldn’t do that. He cares about his people and he wouldn’t ask any of them to do something they’re unwilling to do, let alone force them.”

Thace buried his lingering curiosity as to how Keith could know so much about the leader of Marmora for a later date, settling for asking about more immediate concerns. “Do you have any idea who he might choose?”

Keith’s brow furrowed, gaze boring through the floor and shifting on his feet. “There’s a few people, probably. Maybe Adrik or Zota? They were both members of Parliament, last I heard, and big on fostering treaties. Or Ulaz, if he’s not married yet. He’s always been serious about protecting our people and doing the jobs no one else will.”

“Ulaz,” Shiro said, turning to Lotor. “He’s the Premier’s cousin, isn’t he?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Lotor nodded absently, his eyes narrowed and fixed on Keith. “Keith—”

“No,” Keith said, shaking his head. “I already told you my answer, please just drop it. _Please_.”

Lotor watched him for a long moment, a deep well of emotion swirling in his eyes. “Alright,” he said eventually, reluctant and quiet and a little sad.

Thace glanced between the two of them in confusion, but Keith retreated back into his corner with a bow before he could deduce anything.

Lotor pushed himself up from his seat with a groan and the heavy tension hanging in the air dissipated. “Well, there’s nothing more we can do about all of that until we receive a message from Marmora. May as well get on with planning our departure.”

Shiro stood and followed the Emperor over to his desk, snagging a stack of folders from a shelf on the way and settling at his side to sort through them. The four generals all turned off in different directions to fulfill their own evening duties and Thace closed his eyes and took a moment to center himself, shifting his focus away from his apprehension and onto his responsibilities.

He could worry later.


	4. Chapter 3 - Tumultuous Sea

The ground looked pockmarked, large patches of bare dirt and trampled paths cutting huge swaths of black and murky brown through what was once a lush field. Marmoran and Galra soldiers had battled on this landscape for years, spilling each other’s blood and trampling the grass beneath them. The ground was scuffed and charred from thousands of booted feet and campfires, as worn out as the men who had fought and dwelled on its back.

But after almost two decades of stagnancy the field had come alive. 

Men that had spent most of their time in endless monotony were reinvigorated by the rapidly-approaching prospect of returning home, the air ringing with the sounds of organized chaos. Soldiers darted about, dismantling tents and defense structures, loading carts and horses with supplies, relaying messages, filling in trenches, taking inventory, overseeing transport of goods, carrying the injured - and on and on. They fulfilled their duties with quick feet and bright smiles, eager to finish and _go_.

Ulaz made his way through the crowd, dodging messengers and skirting falling tent poles, weaving through the maelstrom with fluid grace.  Most of the work should be done by the end of the day, wagons loaded and ready to head out as soon as the sleeping tents were packed and the horses saddled around dawn. 

It had been a week since the first meeting with Lotor.  Kolivan had spent the following day in discussion with the few members of the Parliament on rotation at the camp, arguing left and right about the benefits and consequences of agreeing to an alliance. All of them had spent another three negotiating terms with the Emperor, and now a crisp, glossy treaty sat signed and sealed on Kolivan’s desk, waiting to be packed for its journey to the capital, Modravezda. 

They wouldn’t be staying there long, just a few weeks to clean up the chaos of ending a war and to allow the government time to prepare for the Premier’s long departure. There was still one more task to complete before this was all over, after all. 

Well. Over for everyone else.

 

_ (“Parliament decided that if we’re going to agree to the Emperor’s proposal, it should be you.”  _

_ Ulaz raised a brow. “Parliament decided?” _

_ Kolivan snarled, slamming his cup onto the table. “Yes, Parliament! You know damn well that my voice is not the only one that matters. And you also know damn well that you are fully capable of declining. So don’t look at me as if I’ve already signed your life away.”) _

 

Ulaz came to a stop in the middle of the walkway, glaring up at the sky as if it were responsible for all of this. The maelstrom of ceaseless work parted around him, rendering him a motionless island in a tumultuous sea - precisely the opposite of how he felt. 

 

_ (“I… need to think about it,” Ulaz said, head in his hands and gut churning with unease.  _

_ “I can only give you tonight,” Kolivan said, apology suffusing his every word. “I’m sorry, I know that’s not much time but Parliament insists we act on this before the Emperor has the chance to change his mind.”  _

_ Ulaz could only nod. He’d be up until dawn, now, anyway.)  _

 

He roused himself eventually, shoulders rising and falling with a weary, heavy sigh. He’d already made his decision, there was no use in second guessing himself now. He understood how good this could be for Marmora, knew that the situation wasn’t even all that bad - it could be far worse - but it didn’t chase away his nerves. 

 

_ (Kolivan was slumped at his desk, head in his hands and his breakfast untouched, when Ulaz entered the command tent. “You’ve decided, then?” he asked.  _

_ Ulaz dropped into the chair closest to Kolivan, posture straight and proud even as he clasped his hands together until his knuckles turned white to keep them from shaking. “Yes.”  _

_ Kolivan didn’t ask what he’d decided - the exhausted, professional tone in Ulaz’s voice said enough.) _

 

Ulaz straightened, constructing a hasty wall around his wobbly, frightened heart, and faced forward with determination. He had a meeting to get to and he shouldn’t keep them waiting. 

The command structure had been mostly dismantled, only the officers’ quarters remaining to be taken down in the morning. Ulaz headed toward the largest of them, ducking inside and taking the last empty seat. Kolivan and Antok were pressed together on the only couch, Antok’s broad frame taking up more than his fair share of the cushions while Kolivan sat bent over his knees and looking like he’d bitten into something sour. 

The newly appointed Ambassador from the Empire was lounged casually in a chair opposite them, one leg hooked over the armrest and staring at the canvas roof. She lowered her gaze as Ulaz sat down, her bright blue eyes sparking in recognition. “So you’re Ulaz. I didn’t expect to see a familiar face.”

Ulaz inclined his head, a memory of her lounging just as casually at the meeting with the Emperor flitting through his mind. “I am glad to officially meet you, Ambassador.” 

She groaned and tipped her head back dramatically, braids swishing against the floor. “Ugh, please, no formalities, they’re too stuffy. Just Ezor is fine.” She straightened back up, folding her legs beneath her. “Anyway, let’s get started. Tonight we’re just going to go over the basics so if there’s anything glaringly unacceptable you’ve still got the chance to back out in person before everyone heads home.” 

Kolivan’s frown deepened. “We have no intention of backing—”

Ezor waved her hand dismissively. “I’m not saying you _will_ , I’m just saying you _can_ if any of the plans all the important people have drawn up don’t sit right with the groom-to-be over here.” 

Ulaz raised a brow. “I was not under the impression that such a decision would go over well.” 

“Oh, it wouldn’t,” Ezor grinned, “not with the nobility, but Lotor wouldn’t be upset if you changed your mind. He knows he’s asking a lot.” 

Ulaz startled a bit internally at the casual use of the Emperor’s name but nodded hesitantly, mulling her words over. He wasn’t going to, but it was reassuring to know that he could still decline the marriage and it wouldn’t ruin the treaty. “What are these ‘basics’ you wish to go over?” he asked. 

“The itinerary for the next few weeks, mostly, and an overview of what your life is going to be like,” Ezor said, twisting to pull a thin sheaf of paper from a satchel on the floor. She passed a sheet to each of them. “As I’m sure you already know, we’ll be staying in Marmora for two weeks so the Premier and Parliament can get organized for his absence and to get a good start on cleaning up and settling things from the war. You and I,” she pointed a finger between herself and Ulaz, “will be spending a lot of time going over Galra politics, history, culture, etcetera, and getting you trained in court etiquette so you won’t harm any of the nobles’ delicate sensibilities.” 

Antok snorted. “Good luck.” 

Ulaz’s gaze shifted sideways and he wrestled down the urge to smirk. “Some of us are more adept at behaving ourselves than you are.” 

Antok made a rude gesture, before dipping his head to presumably read over the list of everything Ulaz would be doing the next few weeks. 

Ezor grinned, but continued. “Once all that’s done and we’re packed up, we’ll head to Daibazaal. I don’t have any idea on the specifics yet, and I probably won’t until we get there, but the wedding ceremony will be held in the capital at the castle. Lotor is having an estate prepared for the two of you to live in after you’re married and Kolivan - you said you’re having one constructed here as well, yeah?”    


Kolivan nodded.    


“Awesome,” Ezor said. “Officially, you’re ambassadors, but more than likely there won’t be much for either of you to do since most of the trade negotiations are being handled by the merchant guilds. We’ll be taking everything else pretty slowly so people can get used to the idea of us being allies. The two of you will probably be free to move back and forth basically whenever you want.”   


Ulaz turned to Kolivan with a questioning look, a little surprised by the freedom they were being given. “We will not be residing in one country?” 

Kolivan shook his head. “Neither the Emperor nor I want either of you to be parted from your friends and family unnecessarily and there seems little point in relegating one of you to permanently live away from your home. Not as long as the borders are open and everyone gets along. Besides, how would we even decide which one of you that should be?”    


Ulaz swallowed, a wave of relief washing over him. He hadn’t even realized until that moment how frightened he was at the prospect of leaving Marmora permanently, but the way his entire being relaxed was telling; he’d been terrified of it from the start. “Thank you,” he breathed, letting his eyes show the depth of his gratitude for their consideration. 

Kolivan graced him with a rare smile and a nod while Antok stretched over to tug at the end of Ulaz’s hair. “We got your back,” he said. 

Ezor cleared her throat, breaking the moment, and Ulaz glanced over to see she had a pen poised over a notebook. Her face was set in an expression of agonized determination, and Ulaz had a feeling the next bit of conversation was going to be even worse than the last. 

“Alright,” she said. “Let’s talk wedding traditions.”


	5. Chapter 4 - Introductions

Thace looked around, arms crossed over his chest, and inhaled.

The rooms were coming along nicely. The carpet was lush and absorbed the sound of hurried feet, thick curtains framed the wide windows in the parlor and the bathing chamber sparkled with gleaming tile and glass fixtures; the massive bed was draped in soft sheets and a down comforter, the walls were made of polished mahogany, and the entire suite was brightly lit with bronze lanterns and a flood of natural light.

Yet for all the finery, the suite was still casual and homey. Flannel throws lay haphazardly over the couches, books and scrolls rested on nearly every flat surface, the doors between the rooms hung open with boldfaced immodesty; there were already dirty clothes in the laundry from when Thace had spilled lamp oil on his shirt two days ago, and so many people had been coming in and out as they rushed to prepare everything that the new, stale scent of an unused chamber had already dissipated.

There was nothing personal here, yet, it wasn’t _lived in._ But it looked like it _could_ be. Like maybe, if he kept the right attitude, someday it could be _home_.

Or, one of two, at least.

“It’s coming along rather quickly, isn’t it?” Lotor murmured, echoing Thace’s thoughts as he stepped up beside him and took in the bustle of servants ensuring all was fit for a noble. “How are you liking it so far?”

“Your husband has good taste,” Thace said. “I’m glad you pointed me his way, I would have ended up hiring a designer if left on my own.”

Lotor laughed. “Well I could hardly leave you on your own when you looked so distressed at the mere thought of picking out curtains. Besides, Shiro finds a strange sense of pleasure in making a house into a home.” He grinned, voice softening with fond amusement. “He took one look at our suite on our wedding night and vowed he wouldn’t spend a single hour in such a cold, ostentatious room. Thankfully my old suite was still untouched and we were able to stay there until he’d renovated the entire wing to his preferences.”

Thace chuckled, imagining the Prince Consort looking around the grandest rooms the palace could offer with blatant disdain. “That sounds like him.”

Silence settled between them, comfortable and familiar, and Thace felt some of the tension and worry tumbling inside him ease.

“I know these are not the most ideal of circumstances for you to enter a marriage,” Lotor said, soft and unobtrusive, “but I am grateful to you. I want you to know that.”

Thace’s gaze slid over to him and he gave a slow nod. “I know.”

Lotor heaved a sigh, eyes closing. “I wish you could have been with someone you loved. I wish there were someone else I could have asked.”

Thace turned back to the activity around them, watching as the suite for him and his future husband came together into something liveable, but grand and respectable enough for a pair of Ambassadors - for a decorated Commander of the mightiest Empire in the world and for one of the greatest soldiers of the most formidable army that had been seen in centuries. This was never where he would have expected his life to lead, never a choice he thought he would have to make, but… “If this is the price of peace, of stability for the Empire and for our men to be able to go home,” Thace said, his own resolve strengthening just from saying the words out loud, “then it is a low price. I am more than willing to pay it.”

He could see Lotor’s brow furrowing from the corner of his eye, pinched with thought and concern. “The Premier has assured me that his cousin is approaching this with maturity and optimism. He wants this to work, not just for the sake of diplomacy, but for the two of you as well.”

Thace nodded, waiting, recognizing by the look on Lotor’s face that he was sorting through his thoughts as he spoke.

“I believe that, at the very least, this marriage will be a comfortable one,” Lotor said slowly, carefully, the lines on his face easing back into the neutral expression he always wore. “But…” he flicked a glance over at Thace. “But I hope for your sake that it can be more than that.”

Thace’s eyes burned and he blinked to clear it away, giving Lotor a brief nod in thanks for his rare display of honest care. “I do as well.”

The silence returned for a long moment before Lotor drew himself up, squaring his shoulders into the proud set of an emperor. “They’ll be arriving soon; we should go.”

Thace took a minute to settle his own nerves, rearranging his emotions into something orderly and composed, and then gestured for his liege to lead the way.

 

~~~

 

The Prince Consort and a posse of servants and nobles were all gathered at the foot of the palace steps, guards lining the walkway all the way to the gates at regular intervals. It was a formal gesture, though not overly ostentatious; all the pomp was being saved for the wedding.

Lotor headed straight for his husband, bending to place a kiss on his forehead and wrap his arm around Shiro’s waist. Thace found an empty space on the fringes, clasping his hands tightly behind his back to hide the way they’d started shaking.

The retinue from Marmora arrived less than twenty minutes later. Thace heard the echo of the cry to open the gate and watched the massive doors swing open, letting in a line of coaches, guards, and a supply wagon. As soon as the horses had come to a halt, the door of the head coach swung open and Ezor leapt out, dancing over to Lotor and giving a cheery salute in greeting.

Thace’s eyes went back to the carriage as the Premier and his husband stepped out, tugging at the hems of their clothes and blinking in the bright sunlight. The last person to climb down was unfamiliar, but Thace assumed him to be Ulaz and took the chance to look him over uninterrupted.

He wasn’t tall, but he wasn’t short either - right in the range of average - and his movements were graceful as he stepped through the doorway and onto the ground. He was built like a soldier, lithe and strong with broad shoulders and a trim waist. His hair was worn in the fashion of most Marmoran officers - shaved clean on the sides - with his particular style being a narrow strip left along his crown, the white strands tied off in a long tail that hung down to his shoulder blades. He had a strong jaw and a severe face, not angry but solemn and serious. He was handsome.

Lotor greeted Kolivan and Thace, fist over his heart, as the Marmorans mirrored him with flat palms and shallow bows. “Welcome to Daibazaal,” he said, grand and formal.

Kolivan nodded, hands folding behind his back in the rigid posture of all military men. “Thank you, Your Majesty. We appreciate the hospitality.”

Lotor shook his head. “Not at all. Please, let me introduce you to everyone.” He snaked an arm around Shiro’s waist and gestured wide with the other. “This is my husband, Takashi Shirogane.”

“You can just call me Shiro,” Shiro said, a friendly smile gracing his face as he clasped forearms with all three Marmorans.

They murmured their greetings in return and followed along politely as Lotor lead them down the line of the gathered nobles who were deemed important enough to require introductions right away. The head of the palace staff was there too, promising that all of his people would be more than pleased to take care of any and every need the guests may have during their stay, already doling out orders to a few of the servants to begin collecting the luggage to stow in the prepared rooms.

Finally, lastly, they came to Thace.

His hands were sweating, wedged in a tangled knot at the small of his back, but his voice was steady and calm. “I’m Thace,” he said, holding his hand out for Ulaz before anyone else. In any other situation it would have been impolite to skip over the Premier, but everyone knew that this was the only reason Thace was here at all; this was the meeting that mattered.

Ulaz grasped his forearm firmly, the palm of his hand warm on Thace’s skin even through the layer of his shirt. “I am Ulaz,” he said. His voice was accented slightly, a little different from the Premier’s own, but it was also low and smooth and _rich_ , as firm as ice and as gentle as a flowing stream. Thace could write odes to his voice.

Their hands stayed clasped for a long moment, gazes roaming over each other with unashamed curiosity, and Thace was positive he saw a spark of appreciation in Ulaz’s eyes. If he was even half as pleased with Thace’s first impression as Thace was with his then maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Lotor clapped his hands together once, breaking the spell, and Thace turned to him, dropping Ulaz’s hand. “Well, now that that’s taken care of how about we get the three of you settled in your rooms? I’m sure you would like a few hours to rest and clean up before the evening meal.”

Shiro came forward and swept his arm out toward the palace entrance. “If you’ll come with me I can show you the way.” The Marmorans followed after him, Shiro’s polite tone dwindling away as they headed up the steps.

Thace watched them go, eyes drawn to the broad expanse of a particular back and shoulders and wondering if they were as firm and strong as they looked.

Lotor stepped up beside him and Thace glanced over to see he had a brow raised in question. “So, what do you think?” Lotor asked.

Thace mulled it over for a second, turning his gaze forward again. “I have no complaints so far,” he managed, cheeks feeling a bit warm.

Lotor threw his head back and laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they’ve finally met! Barely!


	6. Chapter 5 - Memories

The Prince Consort led them through the palace halls with an easy smile and light chatter, asking Kolivan and Antok how the trade deals were coming along and explaining some of the complexities of merchant guild politics. Ulaz tried to follow along - knowledge of such things would be his business in just over a week, after all - but his mind kept wandering. 

Nearly two months had passed since the Emperor first approached them with the request for peace. Two months since he had proposed uniting their countries in friendship. And two months since Ulaz had agreed to be the figurehead in formalizing the agreement.

The days since had flown by and yet, at the same time, _that_ day felt like it happened a lifetime ago.

The journey back to Modravezda had been swift and busy, but cramped in the overloaded wagons and chilly with the last few days of spring. The landscape of Marmora was dull and unexciting, sparse grass and gray rock and frigid creeks - nothing to see but earth and sky for miles.

Life back at the capital had been far more exciting, but just as tiresome - three weeks of unpacking, cleaning, meetings, quick visits to relatives and friends, laundry, more meetings, packing and re-packing, sorting through mountains of paperwork, and even more meetings. Ezor had commandeered every single evening for Ulaz’s education on the Empire and his future duties, while Kolivan and Parliament took up most mornings or afternoons with the last of his few duties in his current position, as well as counseling him for his new one. He’d hardly had a free moment to think.

He’d had one day to himself, the last before they’d piled into a couple of carriages and left the city. He’d wandered through the streets for hours, looking at the shops and houses, listening to the bustle of life that was ever quieter, ever simpler, the closer he got to the countryside. Seeing life go back to normal in a way it hadn’t been since he was a child was sobering and heartening in equal measures. He was glad the war was over, that fathers and brothers and mothers and aunts were returning home, finally free to live at peace with friends and family.

But it was also a reminder of what he was giving up.

And yet... it would be worth it. Ulaz would do anything to see his people, his home, be free and peaceful.

It didn’t stop the nervous churning in his gut, though.

He barely knew anything about his husband-to-be. Emperor Lotor had sounded confident, optimistic, about the man he had chosen for the marriage, and Ezor said his reputation as a commander was almost unanimously positive, though she didn’t know much about him beyond that, either.

So all Ulaz’s knowledge amounted to was that Commander Thace was said to be a kind, intelligent man who would treat Ulaz respectfully and handle their union with decorum.

On the one hand, such a lack of information meant there was no risk of Ulaz forming negative opinions ahead of time based on  _ someone else’s _ opinions. But on the other hand, it meant he couldn’t stop being afraid that he would end up in a marriage of pure convenience - polite, amiable for the sake of peace, but loveless.

All he’d been able to do for these last few weeks was speculate, mind running around in dizzying, depressing circles all the way up until the moment his eyes locked with Commander Thace. And that was when he’d finally felt _hope_  for the first time since Kolivan had asked him to be the one to do this.

Thace was handsome, built much like Ulaz himself - a swordsman with broad shoulders and a slim frame - and his roguish features did nothing to hide his underlying kind and gentlemanly demeanor. His thick, dark hair was cut short and graying around his temples, and his  _ eyes _ \- rich, brown eyes, bright with emotion, looking at Ulaz with blatant curiosity and lingering apprehension.

In that moment, Ulaz had realized he wasn’t alone; they both had the same fears, the same worries over what their future spouse was like, what their future together would  _ be _ like.

And seeing that someone was stuck out in the rain with him made the storm seem far less daunting. Maybe - if Lotor and Ezor were right about how Thace was approaching this - they could work together, truly stand united and not just as a front.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Ulaz startled out of his thoughts at the sound of someone calling his name.

Up ahead, Prince Consort Shiro was looking over his shoulder and smiling brightly, beckoning for Ulaz to come up and walk with him. “Your guest rooms were prepared just this morning and any luggage still left in the carriages should be brought up soon. His Majesty has a feast planned for tonight so I’ll have some servants sent up in a couple of hours to help you with anything you need. And, of course, you can ask anyone for assistance during the duration of your stay. There’s always someone walking around the halls.”

Kolivan inclined his head. “Your hospitality is appreciated.”

Shiro beamed, guiding them through a particular door in a hall with dozens, all of them identical. The floors and walls were all made of gray stone and sealed together with a pale yellow mortar - the same shade as the dusty ground outside - and covered in vivid tapestries and rugs. The doors were solid wood, carved with swirls and vines and Galra symbols Ulaz had trouble reading in the stylistic etching. Everything was bright and colorful and utterly foreign, but beautiful. Very beautiful.

“How was the journey to Daibazaal?” Shiro was asking. “I heard the snow can last in the mountains through mid-summer. I grew up in Altea’s capital, but I don’t think the snow has ever stuck around that long. When I was a child, a friend of mine from Marmora told me that the wind is much worse there, keeps it cold and helps the snow linger.” 

“The trip was fine,” Ulaz said, giving a wry smile. “Summer came a bit earlier this year. But you heard right, there are not so many trees as in Altea to slow the wind.”

“I love Altea’s woods,” Shiro said, grinning, “but I was honestly relieved to find out Daibazaal is in the middle of a plain. I do miss climbing sometimes, but there’s so much more room to breathe.”

Kolivan gave a wane smile, the lines of his face deepening in an all-too familiar manner. “Our son was fascinated by the woods as well. He missed more meals than I could count on our trips to Altea’s capital because he was too busy conquering every tree in the compound. He never did manage that ancient oak in the west garden, though.” 

Shiro’s brow furrowed, a strange look flashing across his face so fast Ulaz thought he might have imagined it, before it smoothed into polite curiosity. “Your son came of age a while back, didn’t he Premier Kolivan? His Majesty and I both expected to get some news of a ceremony, but we haven’t heard anything about him in years. What is he doing now?”

Ulaz’s heart twisted painfully in his chest, gaze fixed forward; he already knew what expressions would be on his cousins’ faces.

It was a long, tense moment before Kolivan spoke, voice tight and subdued. “He disappeared almost five years ago. After the Siege of Bruim Valley he- He never reported in. There’s been no sign of him since, not even a bo—” His voice cracked and he turned away, jaw clenched tight.

Ulaz swallowed around the swelling in his throat, closing his eyes as if it would stop him from seeing that bright, cocky grin, the flash of a blade in the sunlight, the way THat boy’s arms wrapped so tightly around his fathers’ waists.

“I’m so sorry,” Shiro said, soft and pained. “I had no idea.”

Ulaz opened his eyes in time to see Antok throw his arm over Kolivan’s shoulders and tug him close, pressing a quick kiss into his hair before turning his gaze on Shiro. “We have kept it quiet as best we can. A grieving leader is a weak leader, after all, and therefore vulnerable.”

Shiro nodded in acknowledgment, his gaze swimming with sorrow. He swallowed and seemed to gather himself, straightening his shoulders, but his voice stayed soft, quiet. “Your rooms are just up ahead around the corner, first door on the left. I’ll send someone up later to guide you down for the feast.”

Antok jerked his head in a quick nod and he and Kolivan made their way up the hall and disappeared. Ulaz stared after them for a long moment, heart still aching in shared pain. He would have to join them once he had his belongings settled in his own quarters.

A deep, heavy sigh drew his attention back to Shiro, who was scrubbing a hand along the back of his head, expression pinched. “What a great first impression,” he muttered, soft enough Ulaz though he might not have meant for anyone else to hear.

Ulaz tracked his gaze over the tension in Shiro’s shoulders, the worry in his eyes, and let out a small sigh of his own. How to approach this? Polite avoidance of the distress of someone above his station, or try to start building a relationship with someone Ulaz suspected he would be spending a lot of his time with from now on?

“It was, perhaps, not the most enjoyable of first meetings,” he started, thinking through his words carefully. “But that is no fault of your own. You could not have known what simple and expected curiosity would spark in our memories.”

Shiro attempted a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, but some of the tension did drain out of him. “I suppose you’re right.”

To Ulaz’s surprise, Shiro bent forward in a formal bow, far lower than someone of his station should in deference to a foreign general. “Please, extend my apologies to the two of them, however. Your rooms are directly across the hall from the Premier’s. I’ll leave you to rest and get ready for tonight.” He straightened and waited for Ulaz to give a hesitant nod of acknowledgment before turning around and striding off to another part of the castle.

Ulaz watched the rigid line of his back until he disappeared around a corner before finally letting his own shoulders fall, hunching over his folded arms. It was hardly past noon and he was already weary. Just this morning he’d been fretting over meeting his future spouse -  _ ten minutes ago _ he’d been worrying over the impression he’d made - and now he was too busy swamped with renewed grief to even think about it.

What a day this was turning out to be.


	7. Chapter 6 - Thace

“The south side was a sheer face,” Shiro said, eyes bright with excitement, “just jagged stone all the way up to the peak. It looked like a giant had sliced the hill in two and carted half of it away.” 

Thace smiled politely, but it was hard to focus on Shiro waxing poetic about the picturesque hill he’d found earlier in the week when the Marmorans were set to arrive at the welcoming banquet any second; he was too busy darting glances at the entrance, hoping to catch a glimpse of them the moment they arrived.

Thace had spent half the afternoon pacing up and down the length of his room - worrying about what kind of an impression he’d left on Ulaz - until Gradek had barged his way inside and forced him to get ready for the banquet.

Unfortunately, his aide’s fussing and a rushed, haphazard, lukewarm bath had done little to quell his nerves; Ulaz would be seated next to him for the entire feast. Thace could either try and make pleasant, lighthearted conversation with a man he’d never met before but would be marrying inside of a week, or sit in beside each other in awkward silence, ignoring one another until it was socially acceptable to retire for the night.

And if Thace chose the former, what would they even talk about? The weather? The war? Their childhoods? Everything he could think of seemed either banally trivial or too sensitive to broach with a literal stranger, too…  _ intimate _ .

_ Damnit. _

The herald’s voice rang through the hall, announcing the arrival of their esteemed Marmoran guests, and Thace whipped his head around to see.

The three of them all wore slim, black pants and tunics made of thick wool in rich blues and pale grey, the edges patterned tastefully in geometric shapes and lines. The tunics looked to each be one large, oddly-shaped piece of fabric that wrapped around their shoulders and chest, and hung over their upper thighs, held in place by the many folds and a single belt around the waist. The colors were rather dull against the bright, varicolored backdrop of the Galra nobility, but the dye was deep and strong and the cloth a fine, soft weave.

All three of them exuded a quiet confidence, padding silently with proud shoulders and firm strides over the polished floors in their sturdy, oiled leather boots. They nodded gracefully at the servants who showed them to their seats at the head of the hall.

Thace was just opening his mouth to greet them when the trumpet sounded to announce the arrival of the Emperor and he slammed it back shut and turned toward the entrance to the hall.

Lotor was the epitome of stately elegance, the bright lights glinting off his pale hair and the silvery-blue greaves of his formal armor as he glided to the dais and stood upon it to greet his guests. He gave a brief but eloquent speech about working towards unity and peace, about how joyous an occasion it was to sit down and forge a bond of friendship with those who were once enemies, and the polite silence over the room broke into quiet applause as he stepped down and seated himself at the head of the table beside his husband.

The guests followed suit and the servants came forward to fill everyone’s plates and glasses. Kolivan and Ulaz sat to the right and left, respectively, of the head of the table - in the seats of honor - while Antok sat on Kolivan’s right side and Thace was opposite him on Ulaz’s left. The noise around the room picked up again as everyone began to chat between bites, a dull drone that faded into the background as Thace started on his own meal and contemplated how to go about acquainting himself with his groom.

The decision was taken out of his hands when Ulaz turned to him first, expression as severe yet calm as it seemed to always be. “We passed through Pevnia on our way here. The locals said the mudslides have been devastating this spring.”

Thace nodded, grateful the topic of choice was something he knew enough about to help carry the conversation. “Yes, unfortunately. The rains were heavier than usual and on top of that, many of the earth mages were in the south constructing barricades on the Kythran border.”

Ulaz nodded, brow furrowed slightly - just the barest pinching of the skin on his forehead. “Is anything being done to help clean and rebuild?”

“Yes,” Thace said, glancing around and lowering his voice. “But it has been slow going with the war only just having ended a few weeks ago and with the nobility being more concerned with diverting the military to the borders rather than to aiding the citizens with natural disasters, especially ones that are not even true Galra.’”

Ulaz gaze burned. “But they are still citizens!” he said, voice low like Thace’s had been, but intense, fierce, furious. “The borders have been defended well enough until now, and I would think the Empire has plenty enough soldiers to handle both now that the main force has returned.”

Thace shook his head, more in shared exasperation than disagreement, and launched into an explanation of the nobility’s skewed priorities after centuries of the Empire’s agenda of conquest. Lotor had been working tirelessly since taking the throne to begin changing their ideals and goals, but it was like melting a glacier with a candle, especially since he’d been more busy with ending the war than anything else these past months.

They spent the rest of the meal thinking up plans of their own - compromises and workarounds that would allow the military to be used to the fullest extent possible while making sure the nobility stayed assured that their own needs and desires were being met. Which, naturally, progressed to Thace describing the extravagant lifestyle they lead in the capital, surrounded by luxury and riches.

Ulaz’s lip curled in distaste. “Such wastefulness. Our estate is not as… ostentatious as some of the ones we passed on the way to the palace, is it?”

“No,” Thace said, shaking his head and offering a reassuring smile. “And it’s not an estate, either. The Emperor decided he simply could not  _ bear _ to have me so far away and insisted we have our own suite in the palace.” He gave Lotor - who had looked up at the shift in his tone - a pointed look, eyes glinting with amusement.

Lotor grinned, not even bothering to deny the truth in the teasing comment. “Quite so. The Commander is one of my most valued advisors and it seemed silly to have him reside miles from the palace when he would be spending most of his waking hours here anyway. I actually stopped by to see the rooms just this morning,” he said, eyes glinting - almost sinister in nature, if a bit less dangerous. “They’re coming along quite nicely; nearly finished, I should think,”

“Yes,” Thace said, narrowing his gaze. He knew that tone - Lotor was building up to something, masterfully directing the conversation the way he wished it to go, but for what purpose? “The suite should be ready some time tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, really?” Shiro asked. “That soon?”

“Yes, your instructions were quite thorough,” Lotor said, then turned to Kolivan and Ulaz with a proud smile. “My husband has quite a talent for interior design, even if it is not where his passions lie, and he’s familiar with Marmoran architecture. It’s been a great help as our own Marmoran resident can be rather helpless when it comes to such things and I wanted the suite to be a blending of our two cultures, a place that could be comfortable and familiar for both its inhabitants. It’s turned out quite beautifully, you should like it very much.”

Kolivan frowned. “I must offer my apologies, I’m sure the Prince Consort has far more important things to be doing than decorating. I was under the impression Ambassador Regris was well-educated in all areas of Marmoran culture, including architecture; was his knowledge really so insufficient?”

“Oh,” Lotor said, brows furrowed - if Thace didn’t know him so well he would have fallen for his expression of innocent confusion, but he  _ did _ know him so well. What was he up to? “To be honest, I never thought to ask the Ambassador,” Lotor continued, eyes glinting. “He wasn’t the Marmoran I was referring to.”

“Then who-” Kolivan started to ask, his expression honestly and truly confused.

Lotor smiled, a pleased, triumphant grin, and peered over his shoulders.

To Thace’s surprise, Keith emerged from his usual shadow at the edge of the room, stepping up to Lotor’s side and pushing back his hood. The fabric fell loose and rumpled around his shoulder and he reached up and removed his mask, letting it hang loosely in his fingers.

The wretched squeal of a chair being shoved back made Thace wince, and he turned to see Antok on his feet, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in shock.

Kolivan looked much the same, expression raw and vulnerable and… and  _ shattered _ . He pushed up from his chair - slowly, deliberately - and reached out to tentatively cup his hands around Keith’s face. His gaze darted all over the smaller man’s face and frame, staring intently into his eyes. “Keith?” he asked, quiet and trembling.

Keith looked up through the fringe of his hair and nodded cautiously. “Hi Dad.”

Kolivan lunged, wrapping his arms around Keith and burying his face in his neck. Thace heard him speak - too muffled to understand - but whatever Kolivan said made Keith’s eyes fill with tears and he hid his face in Kolivan’s chest, hugged him back in the fierce, unrelenting circle of his arms.

Antok rushed forward, finally, enveloping the both of them with his massive frame and laying his head on top of Keith’s in a gesture of silent, blatant affection, lips moving in a quiet murmur.

Thace glanced over at Lotor and saw that both he and Shiro were smiling broadly at the display, hands clasped together on the table and Shiro’s eyes glistening with tears. So they, at least, understood what was going on, probably even orchestrated the whole thing considering Lotor’s knowing smile a minute earlier.

Thace turned to Ulaz, then, wondering what the Premier’s cousin was making of all of this, and found him leaning back in his seat, hand over his mouth and tears streaming down his face, eyes shining with happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter, you guys, seriously. It makes me cry.


	8. Chapter 7 - Ulaz

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops. I kept putting off getting this posted yesterday and then forgot entirely. Blame Hymn, she sucked me into Teen Wolf about ten years late.

It was several long minutes before the three members of his family separated; the rest of the room had long since gone back to their meals and conversations after the distraction Antok’s shrieking chair had caused. None of them realized that a miracle had just taken place, a veil of grief and fear lifted from three shadowed, mourning hearts, and Ulaz wiped his face dry as Keith turned to Lotor with a questioning look. 

“Majesty?” he asked.

Lotor smiled, soft and kind, and waved him away. “Go on. There are plenty of people around to protect us.”

Keith’s lip quirked in a grateful smile and he lead his parents away, their arms curled over his shoulders the entire time. 

Ulaz watched them go until they’d disappeared through an obscure door beside the dais before taking in a deep, steadying breath and turned to the Emperor. “Why were we not told of his presence here?” he asked, fighting to keep his voice calm. “Why hasn’t Keith contacted us before now?” 

“Well, primarily because Keith would not tell us the identity of his parents,” Lotor said, slouching back in his seat and propping his head on the hand not currently tangled with his husband’s. “I could hardly hope to find them myself with nothing to go on but Keith’s name, and I had no guarantee that was even his real name.” 

Lotor’s voice darkened then, twisted with old, bitter frustration. “And even if I could have, my father would not permit it. We were at war and Keith had sworn an oath of loyalty and the former Emperor believed that if Keith insisted on reuniting with his family then his oath must not have been sincere. He conveniently ignored the fact that Keith had only sworn himself to I and my husband, not to the Empire. But Keith was in a... delicate position and he did not wish to risk his place at Shiro and I’s sides, so he obeyed my father’s command.” Lotor’s brow pinched. “At least, that is the reason he gave me at the time, but when I took the throne I encouraged him to contact his family and he refused.” 

Ulaz frowned, an unexpected stab of hurt piercing his heart. “Why? What reason could he have for not wanting to speak to his parents?” 

“He was afraid,” Shiro said, cutting in. There was a deep well of sadness in his eyes, laced with reluctant understanding. “Marmora is small, you don’t take risks, right?” He waited for Ulaz to nod before continuing. “You can’t afford to send anyone out on rescue missions, can’t go after someone who’s fallen behind; those who fall behind are left behind, not because you don’t care but because you can rarely afford the risk involved in a rescue. When Keith was captured and no one came for him… he believed— he  _ knew  _ that you didn’t believe he was worth the risk.” 

Ulaz’s blood surged, hot with anger and rampant devastation. How could Keith possibly have believed they were capable of such a thing? “We had no idea what happened to him,” he rasped, “no idea where to even start looking. And we do not follow some ‘survival of the fittest’ ideology, we just- we can’t risk losing any  _ more _ people. But  _ all _ of Marmora would have helped retrieve him if we’d only known where to go, the people  _ love _ him.” 

“I know that,” Shiro said, soft and soothing, “and I tried to tell him, but Keith… He couldn’t see past his fear.” His voice shifted, taking on the tone of someone quoting something. “‘It’s fine, I’m used to being left behind.’”

Oh. Oh Ancients. 

Ulaz covered his face with his hands and slumped back in his seat. Quiznaking  _ hell _ . What had that poor boy endured in his heart all this time, all alone?

“I see,” Ulaz said, raw and weak and shaking. “I had hoped… hoped we had made him see the truth.” 

Shiro’s smile was sad, knowing, and he threw a commiserating look over at Lotor. “We’ve been working on it.” 

Ulaz peered between his fingers at the two of them - instincts sparking over  _ something _ about the exchange - but before he could think deeper on it Lotor leaned forward with an apologetic look. 

“My friendship with Keith is not so old as my dear husband’s,” he said, “but I care about him. It was never my wish to keep him from his family, but I could not force him to contact them either, regardless of how unfounded I believed his fears. The only reason I said something this evening is because Keith agreed to reveal himself in a public setting.” 

“He did not wish to be cornered,” Ulaz surmised. 

Lotor inclined his head. “Just so.” 

Ulaz inhaled deeply, taking a moment to settle his swirling emotions, and rose from his chair and bowed low in the Emperor’s direction. “I apologize for my outburst, Your Majesty. I jumped to unjust conclusions about your intentions.” 

Lotor waved his hand around, gesturing for him to sit back down. “Your anger was understandable, there’s no need to apologize. I assume that Keith is important to you as well?” 

“Yes,” Ulaz said, returning to his seat and clasping his shaking hands together in his lap. “His mother was my cousin, Kolivan’s younger sister. He’s the closest thing I have to a nephew.” 

Lotor hummed. “Do you wish to see him as well?” 

“Yes,” Ulaz agreed, and then smiled wanly. “But he is with his parents now and I will be staying here for quite some time yet. Our reunion can wait.” 

Lotor nodded, appearing neither pleased or upset by his answer, and picked up his wine glass. “Very well then. I expect, however, that you are tired and no one will fault you if you wish to retire early. Thace can lead you back to your room whenever you wish.” 

Ulaz inclined his head in thanks. “That is kind, Your Majesty. If the Commander is finished I would be grateful for his guidance,” he said, directing the last bit in Thace’s direction. 

“I would be happy to,” Thace said, rising. He bowed to Lotor and waited for Ulaz to accompany him, both offering their goodnights and leaving the hall together. 

 

~~~ 

 

The walk back to Ulaz’s room was mostly silent considering the majority of the castle’s occupants were still busy attending or managing the welcoming feast back in the banquet hall. They passed a few servants bustling about, attending to their evening duties, but the hallways were otherwise empty and quiet. 

Ulaz kept half an eye on Thace as the soldier led them through the maze of corridors, but mostly he stared blankly through the passing floor with folded arms and a furrowed brow, mind a jumbled mess. 

Keith was alive. Keith was  _ alive _ . So many years they’d spent wondering and waiting and searching, hardly daring to hope the more that time went by, but unable to stop. Unwilling to stop. And all this time he’d been alive, healthy,  _ okay _ . 

It felt like the air had cleared, the shadows of grief clinging to his lungs swept away, and he could breathe freely again. 

_ Keith _ . 

Of all places for him to end up, he served their enemy’s Crown Prince, the new Galra Emperor; he _had_ always had a knack for getting into trouble. Strangely enough, though, Lotor seemed to care about him a great deal, so gentle and full of concern for the son of a former enemy. What could have brought about such fondness? Or was Lotor simply that kind and generous a man in general? It seemed unlikely, given his father, but what did Ulaz know?

“Your new Emperor seems… different, from the previous,” Ulaz ventured out loud, wondering if Thace could throw a revealing light on the mystery.

Thace nodded, lips twisting in a grimace. “Lord Zarkon is a traditional Galra, just like his predecessors - he values strength and social status above all else and continues to make them the foundation the empire builds on. Lotor believes differently,” Thace said, shrugging. “He’s spent years learning all he can to prove that there is a better way to keep an empire strong. He’s intelligent, manipulative, and more skilled a politician than anyone I know, but I have never seen him treat anyone unfairly or unkindly, not without just cause. ” 

“You speak highly of him,” Ulaz said, curious. “You sound proud of him personally.” 

Thace’s expression softened. “I’ve been watching him for a long time, watching him listen and soak up knowledge everywhere he goes from everyone he meets. He’s grown from a curious, helpful boy to a wise,  _ good _ man who works tirelessly to make life better for his people rather than lining his own pockets or seeking power. He is young, he may make mistakes, but if anyone is suited to being Emperor, it’s Lotor.” 

Ulaz hummed. “You will have to tell me sometime why you care for him so deeply.” 

Thace came to a halt, turning to face Ulaz with a tired smile. “I will,” he said, serious in his promise, and then gestured to the side. “This is your room.”

Ulaz glanced over at the door and flicked his gaze back to Thace. “So it is.” 

Thace shifted a bit on his feet, eyes locked with Ulaz’s. “I enjoyed talking with you this evening,” he said, quiet and sincere. 

Ulaz’s shoulders slumped, tension he’d been carrying for the last few hours draining away. In all the chaos he’d begun to forget exactly why he was here in the first place, along with his worries about how this relationship would progress. But he’d enjoyed their conversations, enjoyed Thace’s thoughtfulness and insight, too, and it was a relief to know the feeling was mutual. 

“I did as well,” Ulaz replied, just as soft. He didn’t want to disturb the quiet air of intimacy surrounding them in this quiet bubble of the darkened hallway. “Will I see you at all tomorrow?” 

Thace nodded. “The Emperor asked that I extend an offer to you to join him and his consort for breakfast in the morning, if you would like. Kolivan and Antok are welcome as well, but you are all free to refuse and dine however you wish.” 

Ulaz smiled. “If Keith is the Prince Consort’s guard then I’m sure he will be there and my cousins will jump at the opportunity to see him again.” 

Thace smiled as well, and nodded, an awkward silence falling over them for a moment before he took a hesitant step backward. “Alright. Well... Goodnight.” 

Ulaz wrapped his hand around the doorknob at his back and opened it. “Yes, goodnight,” he echoed, throwing a parting nod at Thace where he stood by, watching silently until the door closed. Ulaz slid the lock into place and tipped his forehead against the frame, eyes closing with a sigh. 

Maybe… Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. 


	9. Chapter 8 - Thace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m posting a day late not because I forgot, but because I spent 12 hours in the car yesterday on my way to visit family for Christmas. Also, none of my tumblr links are going to work for awhile because I changed my username and I haven’t changed the links, too. I only have a tablet available right now, and for some reason the html never works when I’m on a mobile browser. 
> 
> I’ll get it all fixed next year ;)

The late spring sunshine was bright and cheerful when Thace pushed back his curtains the next morning, white and warm and promising a day of pleasant weather. He just hoped that the brightness would permeate everything else about the day to come, as well. 

He set about getting dressed - awake too late for his usual run after having been up so late the night before - and with the added task of needing to get himself and Ulaz off to breakfast with the royal family. Hopefully  _ this _ meal would have less surprises and emotional turmoil than the one last night.

Thace had never bothered to question where Keith had come from when he’d suddenly appeared at Shiro’s side. Lotor had been looking for someone to take on the job of Shiro’s bodyguard - someone that the both he and Shiro could trust and get along with - anyway, and then he had one. There was nothing strange about that, and Thace wasn’t the type to harangue someone about their past if they didn’t volunteer the information on their own. Still, whatever had happened to land the son of Marmora’s Premier here, serving the Prince Consort, must be quite the story.

Thace finished straightening his clothes and left his room, heading for the guest wing and weaving through crowded hallways that were far busier and brighter than they’d been during his walk with Ulaz just a few hours earlier. The quiet had been so welcome then, enveloping the two of them in an illusion of privacy. Ulaz had seemed so much softer, traces of emotion sneaking through his stoic demeanor; would he have let even that much show if the halls had been more occupied? Or if he’d not already been put off balance by Keith’s appearance? Thace hoped so, hoped that Ulaz had been open because it was  _ Thace _ he was with - and they were going to be married in a week anyway so why shouldn’t they be free with each other? - but it seemed unlikely. 

Thace swallowed back the urge to sigh as he walked around the corner at the end of the corridor to the Marmoran’s rooms and raised a fist to knock on Ulaz’s door. It opened a few moments later and Ulaz stepped out, dressed in a casual tunic and pants similar in design to the formalwear he’d worn the night before, just of a less fine weave and dye. 

“Good morning,” Thace said, offering a smile. “Do we need to pick up the Premier and General Antok, as well?”

Ulaz inclined his head in greeting and then shook it, turning to head off down the hall at a solid, steady pace. “I was told by the servant who roused me that my cousins stayed with their son the whole night,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble that felt soothing so early in the quiet morning. “They will be waiting for us.” 

Thace nodded, turning to face forward and taking the lead as they came up to an intersection. “I’m sorry you had to be up so early this morning,” he said, glancing over at Ulaz. “His Majesty is usually up before dawn working and this was the latest we could convince him to start the day in consideration of his guests.” 

“It’s fine,” Ulaz said, short and final, but not harsh. 

Thace floundered for a moment before latching onto the first thing that came to mind. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“Yes,” Ulaz said, “albeit not for very long. The banquet started rather late.” 

Thace‘s lips quirked. “Yes, it seems to be tradition among the nobility to have formal affairs as late as possible. I’ve yet to figure out why.” 

“It was the same in Altea. Kolivan used to tell Keith it was so the parents had an easy excuse not to bring their children.” 

Thace barked a laugh, looking over to see that Ulaz’s lips were curved in a tiny, extremely attractive grin, and looked away again to keep from staring. “If that were so, why would he admit it to his own child?” 

Ulaz shrugged. “Kolivan has always been an honest person, if extremely private. He’s never understood why some parents lie to their children to avoid explaining difficult things, especially if they will find out the truth later anyway.” 

Thace thought about the way Keith’s bluntness had ruffled more than a few feathers over the years. “That certainly explains some things.” 

Ulaz game him a knowing look, but didn’t comment. They had arrived at the parlor Lotor liked to break his fast in when he had guests, anyway, so Thace let the topic drop and lead the way inside. 

It was a cozy room - a low, round table surrounded by cushions sitting as the centerpiece and large, floor-to-ceiling windows looking out over the eastern gardens. A set of doors opened up onto a wooden patio covered in clusters of soft chairs and a fire pit, but everyone was seated inside today, the mornings still a bit cool and dewey for outdoor eating. 

The others were already there, Lotor and Shiro with their hands clasped together on the table and Keith snuggled tightly between his parents. They all looked up when the door opened and Keith jumped out of his seat and ran straight into Ulaz’s open arms. 

“Ulaz!” He snaked his arms around Ulaz’s chest and squeezed tight, tucking his face into Ulaz’s neck and shoulder. “I’m sorry, I barely even spared you a glance last night.” 

“It’s alright,” Ulaz said - his voice sounded wet, choked - and squeezed Keith back just as tightly, resting his cheek on the younger man’s head. “I’ve missed you, tiger cub.” 

Keith mumbled something back and the two stayed wrapped up together for a few more moments, ignorant to the way the others at the table were watching them with fond smiles. They pulled back from each other eventually and wiped away the tears staining their cheeks, pulling a laugh out of Keith when they caught each others’ eyes. 

Ulaz smiled, his eyes filling up again even as he reached over and cupped Keith’s face in his hands. “I am overjoyed to see you alive and well. Welcome back, Keith.” 

Keith’s answering smile was blinding, a few more tears leaking free, and he latched onto Ulaz’s hand and dragged him over to the table, swiping under his eyes and sniffling loudly all the way. He made everyone shuffle around a bit so that he could still hold Ulaz’s hand while sitting with Kolivan, his father’s legs bracketing his smaller frame. 

Kolivan looked startled for a moment before a small, tender smile eased the lines on his face and he leaned forward to press a kiss into Keith’s hair. He shifted to accommodate the way Antok pushed his way into the family bubble and knocked his head against Keith’s in a gesture that seemed old and familiar if Keith’s exasperated look was anything to go by. 

Thace watched it all happen with warmth swelling in his heart. They all cared so deeply for each other, must have been grieving and lonely for so long, and their relief and joy was a palpable presence in the room. Shiro and Lotor were exuding it as well, their faces split with wide, happy smiles and leaning close together in the way people do when someone else’s love reminds them of their own. 

Lotor waited until Keith looked his way before resting his chin in his palm and quirking a brow in curiosity. “All is well now, little one?” 

Keith’s eyes looked a bit teary again, but he nodded, gaze softening at Lotor’s concern. “Yeah.” 

Lotor smiled, gentle and sweet, and Thace saw his hand tighten around Shiro’s. “I’m glad for it,” he said, and then turned to face Ulaz and Thace where they were both finally sitting at his other side. “Good morning, Thace, Ulaz. I had hoped you would join us this morning.” 

Ulaz inclined his head. “Thank you for inviting us.” 

Thace nudged Lotor’s knee under the table, shooting him a grin. “I’m impressed you were able to wait this long to eat. Just how ravenous are you?” 

Lotor scowled, but it was Shiro who answered the question, not even bothering to hide his grin. “Oh don’t worry, he was harassing the staff twenty minutes after he woke up for something to snack on. It’s hard to believe how much he can eat considering how often he forgets to.” 

Lotor delicately and pointedly removed his hand from Shiro’s, stretching forward to begin piling his plate with food from the platters already waiting for them. “I do not forget, I simply don’t consider it a priority over my work.” 

Everyone took that as permission and Thace joined in with the others in filling his plate, mouth watering from the scents of hot sausages and pastries, sweet fruits and cream, and still-sizzling pans of eggs and potatoes. “Shiro, did I ever tell you about the time Lotor collapsed in the street and was mistaken for an immigrant Altean with no papers?”

“Oh?” Shiro asked, eyes flashing with interest and lips quirking in a mischievous grin even as Lotor turned to Thace in horror. “Do tell.” 

“Don’t you dare,” Lotor said, but Thace had long grown used to his murderous glares. 

By the time he’d finished his tale the others were all in various states of uproarious laughter and Lotor was hiding his flush of embarrassment behind his hand. “You have begun a most vicious war with me, Thace. I have plenty of stories about  _ you _ I can tell, you know.” 

“I, for one, would  _ love _ to hear them,” Antok said, his eager expression oddly mirrored on Keith’s face, even though they looked nothing alike otherwise. 

The rest of the meal revolved around sharing embarrassing stories and entertaining anecdotes about each other, before talk inevitably shifted to the upcoming wedding as they were finishing up. Lotor invited everyone out onto the patio overlooking the garden, sipping from a glass of cold fruit juice as he walked them through the preparations and schedule for the week, as well as the basics of the ceremony. 

“We will run through it the day before, but it isn’t complicated,” he said, “just time-consuming. Galra weddings can last for hours depending on how many traditional practices one decides to perform. Yours will be much simpler since we are combining it with Marmoran traditions.” 

Thace nodded, wondering absently who had been put in charge of arranging all of that. “I assume there are things we need to be doing until then?” 

“Oh, of course,” Lotor said, smiling, “but I will let Dayak explain all of that.” 

Thace blanched. “ _ Dayak _ is in charge of the wedding?” 

“No one knows Galra history and tradition better than she does,” Lotor said, grinning with amusement at Thace’s reaction. “And asking her to learn the history of a similar people and to find a suitable combination of those traditions for a grand ceremony was like handing a child a barrel full of sweets. I have never seen her so happy.” 

“It’s been kind of creepy, to be honest,” Keith said, frowning. “She’s been… smiling.” 

“Who is Dayak?” Kolivan asked, gaze flitting between the three of them. 

“Dayak is a professor and researcher of ancient history, primarily in the origins of the Galra people,” Lotor explained. “She knows more about the time before the Empire even began than anyone, but she studies all subjects extensively and was my governess when I was a child. I could not think of anyone more qualified to find a way to represent the unity of our two nations in a public ceremony.” He glanced up at the sun and then over at Shiro, before turning to the rest of them with a polite smile. “Now, if you will all excuse me, I have a mountain of work that needs to be done. Shiro can lead all of you to Dayak’s office whenever you are ready.” 

With that, he rose, pausing to place a kiss on Shiro’s hand before striding back into the palace and out of sight. 

“Well,” Shiro said, finger tapping absently against his empty glass. “Should we go face the Professor?” 

Ulaz nodded and stood, draining his glass, and the others followed suit, leaving the empty dishes on the table inside before following Shiro out into the hall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely did _not_ steal the idea of Lotor collapsing in the street from Ling Yao in FMA;B. Nope, not at all.


	10. Chapter 9 - Ulaz

The rest of the week went by quickly, a rush of organizing, decorating, and preparing for the wedding and the feast that would follow, tying up the loose ends in furnishing their chamber in the palace, and greeting every noble and dignitary in a thousand mile radius as they spilled into the capital for the festivities. Every night, Ulaz scarfed down a quick meal with Kolivan and Antok - and Keith as well, most days - and collapsed into his bed with a groan, only rousing when a servant arrived with breakfast the next morning. 

Despite all the preparations being for the purpose of bringing Ulaz and Thace together for the rest of their lives, Ulaz hardly even  _ saw _ Thace the entire week, let alone had the chance to speak with him for more than a moment, even during the rehearsal of the ceremony. Hopefully they weren’t meant to get to know each other  _ before _ the wedding. 

On Ulaz’s last night as an unwed man, Kolivan and Antok stayed up late with him, helping with the cleansing rituals and trying to calm his battered nerves with their presence. They all piled together on Kolivan and Antok’s massive bed in the dark, still hours before dawn, and Ulaz closed his eyes, worried for a long, agonizing minute that he would be too nervous to rest. But the busy, stressful week had worn him down and he passed out before too long, lost in dreamless sleep until the sun rose. 

The next day was a blur, mostly. A rushed haze that he couldn’t penetrate - not even years later - with moments of sharp clarity - a servant asking him if the tunic was too tight and Ulaz shaking his head no; his heart - pounding, pounding, pounding - in his chest as he stood before the officiant and waited for his groom to walk down the aisle in his wake; Thace’s gaze, bright and searching as they peered at each other over the rims of their cups, drinking the wine of the Galran god of fertility; a flash of silver wrapping around a slim and graceful finger and solemn words spilling from his lips; a thousand faces peering up at him as he descended a stone staircase, a warm and sweaty palm clasped with his own; the Emperor, so tall and regal, blessing their union from the dais; the taste of mead and roasted meat on his tongue; a breeze of air rushing past his face as they were carried aloft by a surging, noisome crowd to their rooms, a bell chiming midnight in the distance. 

And the the door closed behind them, raucous laughter and cheerful voices fading down the hall as they were left on their own, on their wedding night, and every awkward, endless second that followed was seared into Ulaz’s brain. His gaze got stuck on the open doorway to their bedroom, knowing what tradition called for them to do, what was  _ expected _ of them, but knowing also that it was no longer  _ required _ ; that law had been abolished decades ago. 

But… what did  _ Thace _ expect of him? 

He slowly, forcefully, tore his eyes away from the door and turned to Thace, finding him frozen in much the same state Ulaz had been, arms crossed tightly over his chest and brow furrowed. 

Thace flicked his gaze over to Ulaz and away again, chewing on his lip. “What—” he paused, worked his throat and tried again. “What would you like to do?” 

Ulaz searched his face, looking for any sign of  _ desire _ , and found nothing but a mirror of his uncomfortable, awkward nervousness. His shoulders drooped and Ulaz turned back to face the door, hands hanging limp at his sides. “Truthfully, I am exhausted. I would like nothing more than to sleep until noon, at the earliest.” 

Thace  _ sagged _ \- there was no other way to describe it - all the tension that had been holding him rigid sloughing off of him till he was hunched over in a weary slump. “That sounds… perfect, actually.” 

Ulaz nodded and walked off toward the bedroom, Thace’s quiet footsteps following behind him after a moment, and stepped into the closet to strip out of his clothes and drop them in the basket set by the maids for their dirty laundry. He pulled on the loose cotton shirt and pants he’d found a few days earlier to replace his own too-warm woolen sleep clothes - all of his belongings must have been brought over during the festivities - and passed by Thace on his way to the washroom. He used the lavatory and washed his face before dousing the lamp in the washroom and climbing into bed. 

The lamp for the bedroom went out a minute later and the quiet sound of Thace shuffling through the dim room filtered into his ear. The mattress moved beneath him, blankets shifting a little even across the wide expanse of the bed, and then everything settled again, no more noise but their quiet, steady breathing. 

It felt strange, anticipatory, knowing there was someone sleeping just a few scant feet away from him, sharing the same space as him, as he slowly drifted off to sleep. 

But not bad. 

 

~~~

 

When Ulaz opened his eyes the next morning, Thace was already stirring, pressing his face into his pillow and arching his shoulders with a groan. After a moment, he turned his head toward Ulaz, expression neutral, but slack with lingering drowsiness. “Morning,” he mumbled. 

“Good morning,” Ulaz said, soft and polite. 

Last night, exhaustion had kept him from feeling much of the usual awkwardness over this entire situation, but now it hit him full force. What should he say? What was he supposed to do? They should talk about  _ something _ , right? 

Thace was still watching him calmly, perhaps a bit uncertainly, and hesitance colored his tone when he spoke again. “The Premier and his husband will be leaving later this morning, won’t they?” 

Ulaz nodded. 

“We should breakfast with them before they go,” Thace continued, voice a bit muffled by the fluff of the pillow. “Say our farewells.” 

“Alright,” Ulaz said, but neither of them moved, just continued lying there watching each other for a long, silent minute with wary eyes.

Thace was the one to move first, shifting to smash his face back into his pillow for a moment before pushing up from the bed and retreating into the washroom. Ulaz watched him disappear and then closed his eyes with a quiet sigh; if only they’d had more time together before now, maybe this would be easier. 

But there was no way to change that, now, he just had to deal with what was. He rolled out of bed and started getting ready for the day. 

 

~~~

 

They had breakfast in the same room as the one from earlier in the week, joined by Shiro, Keith, and his parents, though the Emperor was off fulfilling his duties. Keith - his hair now cut short and shaved along the sides in Marmoran fashion - was noticeably upset, mouth downturned and posture hunched, and Ulaz’s heart ached just watching him. Finally reunited with his parents after so long and they had to part ways again already. But it seemed like Keith had made up his mind, even if it hurt, to stay and he’d never been the type to be persuaded by anyone. Besides, he was strong; he’d be all right. 

So, the meal was rather quiet, his family’s sadness hanging like a shroud and turning the atmosphere subdued. Shiro tried once or twice to lighten the mood, telling silly anecdotes that seemed geared toward catching Keith’s interest, but Keith barely managed to scrounge up a few strained smiles and after a while Shiro gave up and finished eating in silence. And once they had all finished eating, there was nothing to do but head outside the castle to wait for Kolivan and Antok’s caravan to be ready to go. 

Emperor Lotor met them at the foot of the stairs with a smile and a Marmoran bow, hand over his heart. “It has been honor to have you as our guests and an honor to commemorate out alliance with such an estimable and beautiful custom,” he said, solemn and sincere. “I hope that you will grace my halls as often as you can. And perhaps, by then, there will not be so much work to be done and I will actually be able to visit with you.” His lips quirked in a wry, tired grin, an expression Ulaz had often seen on Kolivan’s face whenever he returned from a particularly long meeting with Parliament. 

Kolivan chuckled. “There is always some crisis or other just when you think you’ll have a moment to breathe, so I won’t be disappointed if you cannot. But thank you, and I extend the same offer to you as well. My home will be as open to you as the border is.” 

Lotor inclined his head and then stepped back a ways, the formalities on his part taken care of and leaving him as nothing more than an observer as Kolivan and Antok said the rest of their goodbyes. The two of them braced forearms and exchanged bows with the Galra nobles in attendance, thanking them for their hospitality and hard work, before finally coming back to Ulaz and Keith. 

Keith’s lower lip trembled and he threw himself into their arms, enveloped by his fathers’ larger frames. Although… not much larger, Ulaz realized. Keith was still slim - he’d probably never be as bulky as even Kolivan, let alone Antok - but he’d gotten taller, easily able to see over Kolivan’s shoulder. 

It really had been a long time, hadn’t it; what else might have changed these years that Ulaz had yet to see? 

Antok’s voice was quivering as he murmured sarcastic endearments, fondness laced through his tone despite how biting the words seemed on the surface. Keith huffed with mock indignation - playing his role in the game perfectly - but his arms squeezed tighter as Kolivan bent down and mumbled his own gruff farewells, swearing that they wouldn’t let the distance keep them apart much. 

“Come whenever you’re given leave,” Kolivan said, throwing a questioning glance over at Lotor and receiving a quick nod in return. “You will always be welcome.” 

Keith pulled back from their embrace, scrubbing his hand over his eyes and sniffling loudly. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying so much.” He managed a watery but sincere smile, though his voice was a bit rough. “I’ll be fine, though, I’ll write to you all the time and we’ll see each other every chance we get. And Ulaz is here now, too.” 

Kolivan and Antok both nodded, their broad hands squeezing reassuringly on Keith’s shoulders before tugging him in for one last hug and then turning to Ulaz. 

“Don’t be a nuisance,” Kolivan said - startling a laugh out of Ulaz - and reeling him in and clinging tightly. “I’m already proud of you,” he murmured, pressing their temples together. “I have no higher expectations that you need to worry about meeting. You’ve done more than enough for me.” 

Antok’s heavy frame settled against his back, cocooning him in their warmth and reassurance. “Just come see us whenever you can and keep an eye on our son. That’s all we want from you.” 

Ulaz’s heart clenched and he nodded, burrowing into the sense of comfort and safety they exuded. “I will miss you both. Thank you for trusting me with this responsibility.” 

They both pulled back and looked at him with fond smiles and then turned away and climbed reluctantly into their carriage, peering out the door at their family with sorrowful eyes and wane smiles as they drove off toward the palace gates. 

Ulaz stood there watching along with the others until the echo of the gates closing dissipated into the air. Then he sucked in a deep, steadying breath and slowly let it out again, turning to where Keith was standing next him staring at the place the entourage had disappeared. “So, nephew, what do you do in your free time?” 

Keith flicked his gaze up, brightening a bit, but before he could speak Shiro chuckled and drew their attention. 

“I think we’ll have to beg off this time,” he said, glancing over at the Emperor. “Lotor and I have a mountain of paperwork to get through today.” 

Keith’s face started to fall until Lotor stretched out and laid his hand on his arm, smiling softly. “Don’t worry about your duties, Shiro will be safe enough for a few hours until you return. Go, spend time with your uncle.” 

Ulaz was startled a bit by the casual contact between the two of them, as well as Lotor’s easy manner of speaking, but didn’t have the chance to dwell on it when Keith perked up instantly. “Come on, I’ll show you,” he said, and latched onto Ulaz’s hand like he had as a child and began dragging him away. 

A question for another time, then. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh... I hd definitely planned to be working ahead on this story and it just hasn’t happened. I still have an extensive, thorough outline, but this is the last chapter I have completed, so updates my not come as frequently from here on out. But I am going to try really hard because I would really like to finish this. Cross your fingers and leave some excited comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [tumblr](https://zacekova.tumblr.com/), ask questions, request extra content, tell me what you think, scream at me about Voltron in general, anything. 
> 
> Also, for your viewing pleasure when relevant, a [map](https://onoheiwa.tumblr.com/post/177619204921/ill-be-posting-the-first-chapter-later-this).


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